


A Prelude to Tragedy

by republic



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/republic/pseuds/republic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who might you meet on All Hallows' Eve?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Prelude to Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MmeBahorel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MmeBahorel/gifts).



Gruoch stood on the battlements of Inverness Castle as the column of soldiers marched off to meet Macdonwald's forces in battle. She hated it when Macbeth was away, and didn't much like watching the troops marching off into the Cairngorms until they vanished into the mist. But as the Thane's wife, she knew many people would be watching her. If she saw them off cheerfully, then the burghers of Inverness would be reassured.

Once she was sure they were out of sight, she walked round to look north up to Ben Wyvis, which was capped with snow. It was only the end of October, and that much snow on the tops already suggested it would be a hard winter to come. Still, the view down the line of the Ness was always calming somehow. In a few days, the first of Macbeth's letters would arrive, and in the mean time she would just have to contain herself in patience. No doubt news would arrive independently of her husband's prowess in battle. Somehow that didn't always help - being brave didn't seem likely to increase Macbeth's chances of coming home in one piece, and sometimes it seemed like maybe he enjoyed the slaughter a little more than was healthy. He was a good man, and a loving husband, but he became somewhat... distant? when talking about a battle he'd fought in, or when she was dressing his wounds.

By evening, it had become very cold, and a thick fog had rolled into Inverness. Gruoch didn't really want to leave the fire that burned brightly in the great hall, but it was the eve of All Saints', and the town's children would be out guising. She should be seen out and about, and give some of the more enterprising youngsters a few coins. Her tradition was also to visit the church, and light a candle for those she had lost. So she called for her cloak and a small purse, and headed out into the night with a lantern.

It was one of those cold still nights where the fog makes you feel almost entirely alone. The sounds of groups of children singing their guising songs were oddly distorted, so Gruoch was slightly startled when one group came within her lantern's radius.

> This ae nighte, this ae nighte,  
>  Every nighte and alle,  
>  Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,  
>  And Christe receive thy saule.  
> 

This group were suprisingly well made-up, with a grey pallor and curiously fixed expressions. Also, while they all sang treble, there was a strength and resonance to their voices that was surprising in young children.

> From Brig o' Dread when thou may'st pass,  
>  To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last;
> 
> If ever thou gavest meat or drink,  
>  The fire sall never make thee shrink;
> 
> If meat or drink thou ne'er gav'st nane,  
>  The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;  
> 

Gruoch was familiar with the English guising song, and its reminders of the duty to charity and hospitality, but there was something about the way these children sang it chilled her. As they continued, she pressed a few coins into their hands.

> This ae nighte, this ae nighte,  
>  Every nighte and alle,  
>  Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,  
>  And Christe receive thy saule.  
> 

It was almost as if the children dissolved into the mist as the final chorus faded away. Gruoch shivered a little, then walked further away from the castle towards St Michael's Mount where the church stood.

Perhaps it was the fog confusing her sense of time, or maybe it was just that she couldn't see the usual landmarks through the murk, but Gruoch was sure she should have reached the church by now. As it was, the buildings had thinned out and the ground was getting boggier. She was just thinking she should turn around and find the Ness to regain her bearings when she came across three women muttering to themselves. As she approached, they suddenly stopped talking, and turned to face her.

Maybe it was the light of her lantern reflected in the fog, but the three women, in strange ragged attire, had an unearthly look to them. The youngest-looking spoke first:

"Give us a coin, we'll give you the news"  
"Give us no coin, we'll give you a curse"  
"Give us three coins, we'll give you the truth"

"Who are you?" demanded Gruoch, "And why do you greet me thus?"

"You didn't ask the grave-children their names, did you?"  
"We serve one lower than they, but are now higher than them"  
"We'll tell you of greatness if you give us some coin"

They were clearly determined to get some money out of her, and Gruoch figured she might as well humour them. Somewhat irked, though, she flipped them exactly three coins. Still they spoke to her in turn from the youngest to eldest:

"We were like once, but that time is now passed"  
"We were briefly alike, but you will abjure that time soon"  
"Heed our advice, you'll ne'er be like me"

Given how hideous the last speaker was, this was intruiging. "What do you mean?"

"The Thane of Glamis is a good man, but yet he might be greater"  
"The Thane of Cawdor is not a great man, but Macbeth shall o'ercome him"  
"The King is a great man, yet Macbeth might succeed him"

"What on earth are you talking about? Surely Malcolm will succeed Duncan, or if not him, then Donalbain?"

"Duncan's sons may yet not succeed him"  
"Macbeth may achieve renown, yet he will shrink back from the task"  
"Macbeth may be king, yet only if you spur his ambition"

This was very strange, and not a little discomfiting. "What are you suggesting?"

"Beware! The grave-children gave thee good warning"  
"Beware! Heed us, and briefly regret"  
"Beware! Ignore us, and regret for many years"

Gruoch was now thoroughly confused - Macbeth would be King, but only if she encouraged him, but she would regret whichever course of action she took? "Speak plainly!"

A sudden gust of wind and the fog thickened again, and the three women seemed to be fading away. "Come back!" called Gruoch, "And tell me what you mean by this riddling!" But they were gone. As the fog lifted a little, she could again see the lights of Inverness Castle, much further away that seemed possible. She thought, though, that she heard the voices of the women again, carried on the wind:

"When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain"  
"When the hurly-burly's done, when the battle's lost and won'  
"That will be ere the set of sun"...

**Author's Note:**

> This is set (just!) before the play opens; I was thinking about why Lady Macbeth (her name here is the historical name of Macbeth's wife) behaves as she does - she urges Macbeth on, but is also clearly struggling with the whole business. I lived in Inverness for a while, too, so hopefully the geography is about right! I took as few historical liberties as were plausible given what we know of 11th-century Scotland...
> 
> Happy Yuletide!
> 
> Thanks to shadowlover, molybdomantic, and atreic for beta.


End file.
